In the ever-shifting landscape of the culinary world, there's one constant—change. It seems like just yesterday we were raving about the genius of "The Original Beef of Chicagoland," River North's temple to elevated beef sandwiches. But in the blink of an eye, that nostalgic, linoleum-floored haven has undergone a dramatic metamorphosis. Welcome to "The Bear."

Gone are the days of autographed local celeb photos and obscure arcade games. Now, the atmosphere is a study in modern elegance—imagine a serene palette of blues and whites set off by bespoke wooden tables and fresh, aromatic floral arrangements. The transformation is jarring, and perhaps a bit disorienting. You wonder, can a restaurant undergo this radical makeover and maintain its soul?

Ambitions are high at The Bear. Echoing the philosophy of Will Guidara, the legendary GM of New York’s Eleven Madison Park, the service aims for "unreasonable hospitality." Staff members in sleek suits clandestinely pass notes to each other like spies—or perhaps, more accurately, like secretive middle-schoolers. The intention is to tailor each dining experience to the individual, and while not flawless, their pride in the endeavor is palpable.

Granted, the doors aren’t officially open to the public. Our impressions are based on a "Family and Friends" night, essentially a dress rehearsal. So, let’s call this an "unofficial" review.

When it comes to food service, inconsistency reigns. Yet when the plates do arrive, they spark conversation. Think warm bone broth artfully poured over frozen grapes, house-made focaccia paired with decadent Parma ham and vibrant giardiniera, and a list that spans from "Seven Fishes"—a deconstructed bouillabaisse—to a porterhouse steak that commands attention. 

If The Bear opts for a tasting menu, consider it the tracklist of an ambitious debut album. Some dishes are emotional ballads, others uproarious pop hits. Craving existential and psychological culinary musings? Go savory. Looking for a side of whimsy with a sprinkle of Noma inspiration? The desserts and savory cannoli are your encore.

So, will The Bear roar or retreat to hibernation? Good thing they’ve kept a lifeline—the drive-up window for their legendary beef sandwiches. Because, as Will Guidara’s journey at Eleven Madison Park proves, sometimes a sibling no-frills restaurant operation like Shake Shack can keep a gourmet venture afloat. If we were steering the ship at The Bear, we’d keep that window wide open.